Over the weekend I treated Bren to a movie, and since I have a thing for cooking shows I dragged him to see Julie and Julia. The film was ok, but it was the food that gabbed my goat and floated my boat. As I watch most cooking shows I am more prone to Hugh Fernley Whittingstall and Heston Blumenthal over hot head Gordon Ramsay or even Marco Pierre White, whose restaurant I have been to. But Our beloved Notting Grill is gone and we are both left with Julie's in Holland Park as our local fave. So this brought me to thinking about the new wave of restaurants that I like to inhabit. Living in London, I do have other favourites, such as Nobu and Black and Blue and Galicia on Portobello Road. Yet, my palette calls out for more screams even for bigger bolder badder. So with the trend of underground restaurants taking place over my choice for clubs, there is something to be said for the speak easy restaurants peppered all over this city. Such as The Pale Blue Door in Hackney and The Surrealist Dinner Club these are two that are worth getting on the list for. I can act a damn fool and drink like I usually do at a family reunion and not really care, cause it ain't a party till something is broken. With limited space in such venues it is more intimate and a lot more social in such gatherings. Tony Hornecker turns his flat into an on off dinner establishment with complete with entertainment that makes this quit a nite to remember. I do enjoy cooking for large groups of people and when all else goes horribly wrong for me in the kitchen, the worst does happen. I virtually turn into my mother with one to many double jacks and the barbed bon motts keep a flowing. So if you like your mains served up with roast beef and drag queens this is a thing that will far surpass the boring old dinner party. With the Surrealist Dinner Party having a small hosting this too reminds me of Shunt Vaults.
With pop up restaurants and shops taking place all over London such as Stokey's The Secret Ingredient, it's no surprise that London is still such an amazing city to live in. So armed with my booze and appetite I will always dig in. Bon Appettite.
It's official, I am uncool. There, I said it it. you heard me. Out at the George and Dragon grabbing a few and throwing them back after work to calm my aching nerves I ran into a good acquaintence whom I have known on the scene here form some time since moving here 11 years ago. We started talking about old age, and our sale by shelf dates when the topic of drugs came up. So before you start thinking we were doling out the Peptol Bismol and Pamprin along with the Peperation H, over Mint Julips, drugs became the topic. Now I don't partake in drug runs to Cuba like I used to as I have a partner, a shop and a high maintainence pooch to contend with. I just don't do them like I used to because I just don't like feeling like shit for three weeks.
So It was surprising that I was schooled on two new ones, MTV and Methedrone. Now it wasn;t that these two party favors flew over my head that surprised me. It was the fact that some fucking idiot thought it was good idea to concoct such a drug. As I really am not a circuit queen, never have been never will be. This Disco Dosing of MTV was by far the stupidest one I had heard of. Simply for the reason in taking it. MTV is Methamphetimine, Antiretrolviral Tenofovir, and the last bit used to treat guys with erectile dysfunction and pulmonary arterial hyper tension Viagra. Taking this would make you "immune:" from VD and the great Bug, but you took this for a weekend when you wanted to be ridden like the mechanical bull over at Gilley's and check your morals and underwear at the door. But I thought what kinda a dip shit welp thought that this was a good idea and why in the fuck would some one end up like that little old disco broad from the movie Studio 54, having a heart attack on a dance floor.
When I went out I used to see these guys fucking draged out semi conscious and somewhat breathing. And yes they always met abit of my scowlful scorn. I mean I have lost my wig a few times in a club, but who wants to be th aging dude wh can't handle his shit at a club. Certainly not me. The other was a drug named like the Brian Jones Town Massacre album- Methadrone. Apparently plant food. This one seems a little more viable as at least the reasoning behind this is who gives a shit their high on plant food. But the other just baffled me. I have to think that sometimes the gay community has become something of a large suicide cult. These are the same bitches whom have that look of catholic guilt on their faces at the free clinic. You know the ones whom looked like they just blew the whole Rectory of Priests at their mid morning cock worship. I don't puty circuit guys as they go into debt and play on a place that is rather flat vapid and one demensional. I mean most of this whole ideology is based on the life of luxury and party with the beautiful people.
This is where I am always amazed by my dog and her needs. They are so simple and standard. Gay guys need close proximity to cock and booze. Not necessarily a bad thing, but the whole actilng like teenagers in heat does seem a little sad. But, yes I am offically uncool. I am ok with this. Because I have made my peace with it long ago. I have nothing to prove to some queen in hot pants, as I have my partner, the coolest dog in the world and a business. A brand new buss pass and a bunch of bad credit. To quoate grandpa Simpson, I used to be with it, but then they changed what "it" was. Now I found it weird and scary and just a little bit stupid.
I was given a book a while ago on my birthday by a photographers work whom I was familiar with. To be fair it was the same old same old I had seen before. Naked men frolicking around with the supposed nuances that this man gets involved with his subjects in some way or another. Being that physique photography is nothing new, I wasn't actually moved by the work. But what bothered me more was that the son of a bitch was in most frames, taking out any mystery and erotic measure, well for me anyway. As I looked over this photographers photos, I couldn't help to think, "Excuse me, but there is a geriatric old age pensioner in almost every fucking frame." Talk about buzz kill, not to mention boner dud.
Tom Bianchi's work to me is not very erotic, nor ground breaking. This is my opinion, because this shit looks like it belongs in Palm Springs' Gay Coffee Houses or Bars. What bothers me is that homie trolls bigmuscle.com profiles to find his subjects. Nothing wrong with that, takes the element of fantasy away by his presence. Guy bending over pulling off nellie looking jock strap, and behold grandpa in the background. Guy flexing in mirror with morning glory, there that fucker is being grabby grabberson. Guy stupidly posed over Harley Davidson motorcycle and garb, and oh yes, he's there too. His photo's only turn any voyeur into a peeping tom of the sexual escapades of hyper sexed Dinosaur. Sorry but that's just how I see it.
When I look at these photos I see a facade, and a bubble that is not real, nor making want to pitch a tent in the hopes of getting hurt for a squirt. Simply pretension of a man's life, who claims to be on a "journey". I've got your fucking journey with snacks underneath. Seriously there is some predatory about trolling the internet looking for cock with the pretence to call these pictures art. Nan Goldin he is not. Nor Herb Ritts or even Bruce Webber whom do it better and leave the viewer to enter a fantasy before he ever did. R.C. Horsch took photos of female heroin addicts whom he admitted to have some sort of liaison with. The fact that this type of behaviour was enabled, with even some of the girls dying of over doses was a little to close to the bone for me. But I still did not call this art. Yet Horsch's other works show a very developed eye and mystery that Bianchi's seem to lack. Still I felt there was a parallel that they sought their subjects for the desired result of what THEY wanted.So for that is will not constitute this as art even low brow art. I would like to like Bianchi's work, but to me it's just flat and all to homogenised for the uppity supposed upward mobile gay. Not to mention that it's supposed that a 64 year old man is to have that type of physique ala natural? Nigga pleeze!
As far as photography goes I favor Nan's work to a favourite of mine whom is Joel Peter Witkin. I think Tom Bianchi has a few detractors for actually being in his work. Sure he is a handsome man, and if I were in a grandpa heat, and trolling Leisure (Seizure) World,I might consider as such, but he's not my type nor ever will be. But still I think it boils to being left to the eye of the beholder. But come on dude do you have to be fucking naked to take a man's photo. evidently not. And because Tom doesn't appear to seperate himself from his subjects, puts me off. I would admire the guy if he said out right, I am just a horny lonely old dude, and just can't live with out a cock in my throat. Then I would feel there was a bit of honesty than palming this off as something other than his own vanity. His photos don'y charge me
I am a movie fanatic, but actually not a big on huge Blockbusters or anything with Arnie Shwarzenager. That is not to say that I like art films about little girls from Yugoslavia, whom one day wish to own a bicycle. But I am a sucker with a movie that shows a slut with a gun. Especially slutty midgets with gins. So in honour of this heady broad I salute her and her great cinematic achievement. But channel surfing on TV with a remote made room for the devil to make with idle hands, and grab my attention just then. There really aren't enough films with midgets and guns, let alone kicking ass. So on with the show.
If you get the chance to drag your ass to a record store, a time honoured tradition that is sadly fading away. You should check out a new sound and band to expand your rock and roll pallete. I was turned onto the Bitchwax by my client Gary and at the moment I have been banging this out of my Ipod and Iphone. As I was never a fan of Godspeed, I was fucking ape shit for Monster Magnet. Unfortunately they haven't made their way here on their last tour. Still, a fucking great Band. And this one goes out to all you whore hounds with.......S.T.D. CRANK IT MOTHER FUCKER!
I will admit it, ok I am addicted to style. Fashion mavens everywhere have nothing on style when it comes to appropriating a style that is just truly your own. I say this because fashion is dictated, not spontaneous. With word that Anna Wintour is coming to grace her corpse to this years London Fashion Week, an appearance she has not made since 2007, people are giddy. London is now become a haven for the tragically hip. I myself haven't made an appearance to a fashion week party or show since 2005. To me, it's always the same. Retro looks on bored malnourished youngsters whom think this is dare I type it, FABULOUS. Ok first I was here for the cheap free booze, after parties, and to see whose coke I snort, and what goodies I can grab in my bag. Second I was there to network, network, network.
But To fill your calendar with a weeks worth of Fashion Week Parties is a young persons game and I am an old fart now at the geriatric age of 41. That's like teetering on Karl Lagerfeld domain, you looked stupid surrounded by a bunch of young people who think they know what is supposed to look good. When In actuality some gay guy told them this is the new look. Plus I am much to old to have to suffer fashion cramps. Fashion cramps are outfits that look really good on you but are a fucking pain to wear, like my leather chaps. and I own five pairs of them fuckers. As my palette for style has changed with age, I have turned my sites to a different catwalk.
Stores have become my interest in how people dress, just not only in the high street chains but everywhere. So my new obsession is People Of Wal-Mart . Cause if anything thing these people truly know how to show their true individuality. Me, myself I will not shop at a Wal-Mart for ethical reasons. Ok, before you start thinking I am some bona fide drunken hippy Norma Rae, I'm more of a Target and K-mart kinda guy, always have been, always will. I mean shit whom can pass up three fruit of the loom wife beaters for $11..00 and dickies for $23.00. Still with rampant rumours of child labour law violations and muscling in on small business and communities, poor care of it's work staff, I just don't see the need to wear an XXXXX LL Bin Liner in the latest red neck style. Just because I am on a K-mart/Target diet doesn't mean I can't look at the Wal-Mart Menu that is there ever glamourous patronage. The aisles of Wal-Mart give Fashion Week a run for its money. Perhaps if Marc Jacobs got off his knees long enough to pry his lips off his Brazilian's piece of cock, he might find a new trend like the bullshit one he hampered onto the masses with Grunge. Still this is some good old fashion scrutiny of the style mavens. I bet lard ass Andre Leon Tally could only dream of suck extravagance, especially since that fucker walks around in what can only be described as an over decorated Muu Muu.
My aunt Jane used to baby sit me and my brother and since she was a influence in ways musically to me, I remember her teaching me how to dance to this very song. And for some reason, no matter what my mood this always will put it in a better one. I would violently shake and knock down furniture, step on the family dog, fall over and get right back up. I would shake to a rhythm my feet couldn't control. Much to the chagrin of my mother when I heard music I would simply knock into things and keep moving. Forward motion, keep shuffling and then I saw this. I was simply just a plucky six year old id and thought this is where I needed to be. I remember once dancing so violently that I accidently smakked my brothr in the eye with my hand. So come 12:00pm on a saturday afternoon I would plant my little ass in-front of the TV. I was left alone to my own devices, and happily so. Music was partly what shaped me. And then I would try and mime and mimic the motions that I saw in-front of me. I would normally do this till I simply passed out of exhaustion. It's funny how certain songs stay with you and this one has always been a favorite.
If you go to 1:09, the bitch in the brown vest looks like the fashion equavalent to Swine Flu.. As opposed to American Bandsatnd, well it was just sixty minutes of who to dance like a dorky asshole. I mean this to me anyways, solitified that most white people don't have the rythem and below shows proof.
Last night I went home bleary eyed, tired wobly and feeling really run down mostly cause I had a shit week! Upon my arrival home I normally have my ritual, tear off my clothes and put my uniform on. Boxers and a wife beater (wife pleaser to my feminist friends), the most comfortable clothes man can ever wear next to being naked. Anyhoo, turn on the flat screen and to the daily news.. and the usual. Hooded moron claims innocence after stabbing kid 16 times in public park with 39 witness's saying otherwise. Parliment blaming binge drinking and alcoholic behavior on cheap booze prices and a dwindling economy. Forget the fact that we live in a country where there is a fucking pub nearly every 2 blocks in central London. Anti Social Behavior out of control when laws are put into effect from preventing us from kicking the shit out of these little petualent little shits, but it's still rising. But then we turn to Things going on in America.... Although tired my interest is suddenly perked. I sit up and listen.
It's really weird to watch my home country change and view it from the outside. To witness it's behaviour from a different perspective outside the circle. First, with the release of the Lockerbie Bomber. Ok, yes it;s horrible, and yes, it should never have happened. To make thinkgs clear I am not supporting nor deffending Al Megrahi or his actions. Just Like Timothy McVey, I think they are answers we will never truly have to get a full picture. So cue conspiracy theorists and all, I think there is more to be learned. I do believe that the real criminals and culprits for these attrocities are still at large, so there I said my two cents. Come on can any one see the irony here? Americns thinks he's such and asshole, and the guy is dying of prostate cancer. Literally. Ok, it's not like he's chilling with P fucking Diiddy whats his face in St. Tropez, down at his crib sipping champagne. I could care less what fucking Libya thinks for they raise flags when a fucking Camle makes a takes shit! Still I think that the Scottish Secretary MacAskhill gave a good reason, and fair enough. There are always going to be wo sides of this political tar baby. I think in order for the world to be a better place we need to be a more compassionate world and loving people as a whole.
A private shop is around the corner from my shop, I didn't go over there with stern words or get angry but went over with some flowers and wished the luck and congradulations.. She earned it. America seems to think that the world, i.e. them, are always under direct terrorist threat and would like to keep their citizens thinking that too. which is a shame. In the 80's it was the Russians whom posed the biggest threat, now it's crazed militant Muslims and any Muslim middle easyern country for that matter that pose the threat to America. Well if the fucking bully is going to punch you, he 's going to fucking punch you not talk about it. So for me I think that this was a bold move in humanity. Also I do feel Obama has to tread carefully as I am sure he has a team of advisors whom he has to make sure he keeps the status quo there. It may be a completely different to what he personally feels as opposed tohis professional opinion. With his trying to reform social health care. This was the footoage that pissed me off. Some dumb bitch at a town hall meeting speaking with her local government official, claiming that Obama was supporting a Nazist, Fascist ideology. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have some stupid broad in ugly ass clothes, row 9 seat 6 whom needs a really good fucking slap.
What is the problem with social health care? Nothing. I have a General Practioner one block from my home. I will never pay more than £7.10 ($11.72) for any medicine or perscription I may need. In fact some I get for free. FREE MEDICINE. Why Because I need it. For instance if someone takes medication that is costing them in America $630 for heart a condition, this does not cover 60 day refills and other incidents, like medication falling down a drain. Stupid I know but happens. Here, a doctor just refills this. Of course I am not sying that I get Vallium mailled to me, I did in California. A friend told me told me he is billed $5000 for the drug Atripla for a three month supply or what his insurance does. Which is fucking crazy! I stayed ina a hospital bed with accute food poisoning for 6 days and was free! I know one asprin tabliet in the state doled out by staff would have cost me $18.00. again fucking crazy. Plus I was in a private wing so I was doing ok. I mean the food was dire but It wasn't like I checked into the Sanderson Hotel With heated debates and the the threat of Americans at each others throats over medical reform, if stupid and fucking bullshit. So take it from someone who has expierienced it first hand as an American, Social Health Care WORKS! The footage of Billy Bob holding his "Oboma(sic) Don't Know "picket sign argueing with a woman about the issue was good television. I think it was the same fucker whom was ther picketing the Dixie Chicks, only with a better haircut.
It had all the making to be great, good, even down right nasty. This what I don't understand about the stratusphere they call celebrities now adays. Back in my day it would have gone down this way. Picture it, Hollywood 1900's. Sex was easy to get long before internet. Drugs were better and lasted longer, rent control was in effect and people were alot less suspicious and privacy allowed most to get there Ho stroll on with a worry or care. So you have one slightly handsome bohunk (allegedly), that broad from Scream and Noxema comercials, with a pinch of one perky shamed former Miss Teen title holder. I love that title more than current Riegning Miss Teen USA, sounds kinda like Failed Child Actor becomes Big Time Drug Addict Ho Bag. Well I knows it cause I grows it. anyways. People are shocked at a video showing people covorting about in a hot tub smoking either a crack, weed insert current new street drug here. Anyhoo, so what was once the "Sex Tape" trend has been debunked by the "Naked Tape" contender.
I call it the "This is nothing more than upwardly mobile white people having fun and doing a really shitty job of it, tape." Ok, I would look at footage of a woman blowing an Ardvark, and have. But this, come on! Where's he burned crack pipe lip kiss? Where is the lesbo lithe finger bang? No facial cum shots and snow ball, cream puff jizz swapping. Where's the "swallow my pipe you child killing, crack pipe smoking, lesbian loving slut" banter? Annabelle Chong getting banged by 251 (62 guys and one fired security guard), now that was a sex tape. Somewhere in the state of Texas there is a tape with my name on it. I am not ashamed, there I said it. I mean there were no animals involved nor children, satanic cults or even a circus act harmed in the making of my sex tape. Probably not so much as a sex tape really, more of a guy filming me and some other unfortunate soul caught doing it in a dark dank alley. I blame my alley cat slut gene, but most gay guys have that componant built into their make. This happened when I thougt it would be fun to take the train cross country and visit a friend whom was attending Texas A&M. But when I new the camera was on I gave a fucking performance of a lie time to make any zoologist proud.
So if your going to make a sex tape god damn it have sex.. These time they are a changing.. and with my alley cat ethics , I mean give ud some show. Peen and titties do not make a sex tape. Throw in a crack pipe and you got the makings of a potential sex tape, I would be all, "Give Me Something Ta Suck!'. As patience dwindles and audiences are asking for more things in this current climate of change and uncertainty, a hunger for more is bound to take precedence. For instance, third base isn't considered being felt up or touching a persons genitals, it's a blow job. In my case, second base. I have done some low end porn and s&m movies but the funny thing is I enjoyed doing them at the time and saw nothing wrong with it. So with a former title holder of some Miss Teen Wets Pants and the married couple I found all just anti climactic. I mean these people are paid to entertain us and even when the have sex there is no penetration, no cracked out stupor or even a big bag of weed. In Hollywood failure is just spitting distance from anyone and that makes it so much more entertaining when normal people watch famous people unravel. But to see somewhat famous people fucking, that's when the real entertainment and shame kick in. I mean jesus even Gene Simmons' sex tap had a a girl wearing a corset and flip flops while having sex. But that one still baffles me for style sense and purposes.
So there you have it a TV actor of a show I never watch or even really heard of, and Rebecca whom was good in Scream 564, and apparently pretty good at running over small children. Along with this, she has a panache for posing somewhat stupidly with a crack pipe more than just the once. And some dumb bitch whom got dethroned for posing for Playboy. And your by now aware of my it ain't a party till something broken, well ain't shit going on here but the motherfucking rent. I imagine if George Michale was watching this on his iphone, and fell asleep behind the wheel before butt fucking that other vehicle. Come on people get with the program... Sex tape means actual penetration, clitty litter smeared on your face all while looking like Nellie O'Hara bathed in Vodka. i will never understand these people of today. .
If you think of two words that appropriate the oil and water ideology it's Rock N' Roll and the word Library. You know those big old pesky halls filled with books and loads of somewhat unattractive people behind self imposing desks telling you to be quiet. I was always told to shut my pie hole in the library, but thaat's no surprise to you lot. Mick Jones of the Clash and Big Audio Dynamite and Carbon Sillicon, has once again opend his treasure trove to the rumoured breeding ground where it is said the Clash had formed. To me it's the perfect place and a Valentine from Mick, nestled directly across the street from Portobello Green Market. With this entire collection housed in a lock up for nearly 17 years, it is open for anyone free of charge to enjoy.
The exhibition is directly under the Westway and give you a glimpse to the history of the band, the area, and the hodgepodge that is Portobello. Portobello has a long history of Raggae and Dub and music scene, and with the Notting Hill Carnival coming at the end of the month, again Mick shows imppecable timing. Records, Movies, Set Lists, Toys and his large Library of Books, Magazines, Fanzines (all Original first Editions). I swear I all most passed out from delirium and sheer excitement and utter envy. I haven't been this giddy since I was spit roasted back to back at the back of Cuff's Leather Bar in Silverlake circa 1995. The entire collection is there for you to read and scan, with memory sticks for sale your fingers can litterally do the walking in this library. The idea is fucking genious. Being that my own pooch is a lover of fine culture she was allowed to enter the 3000 square foot exhibition and partake in all it's splendour.
Doling out Library cards that are also sure to be collectors items and fanznes and t-shirt's for sale, there is someting of interest for everyone. As the Library is only set up for a short time. There are also films and Docmentaries playing in the screening room of the exhibition. Over the weekend Viv Albertine was on hand to to give a history of The Slits. Upon leaving I felt this wasn't just a thank you to the Portobello Market area, Gazza's House Of Rockin Blues and the other attributes that was the breeding ground to Mick, Joe, Paul and Nick..but a time where you really weren't unindated with loads of corperate crap. Slogan's of DIY and starting revolutions and to feel free to make a souviner from the collection run through out the entire collection. Prompting the viewer to simply thnk outside the box and well, do something. The Library closes it's dorrs in August 23rd and is open weds-sunday and is free from 11am-7pm.. At Ladbroke Grove Tube Station and a brisk walk under the Westway, at 2 Acklam Road, it's a perfect way to soend a lazy day and then on to the market to start your very own collection. Being that when I moved to the Portobello/Notting Hill area nearly 7 years ago I have seen it change considerably. This is a testament to the hood of Portobello's greatness and legacy. By any means get your ass down there.
